Distant 'family'
by adkal
Summary: There are an 'elite' few who are on the outside looking in. They are privy to a secret but not a party to it. Working behind the scenes, this collective has an understanding: help when you can but keep it quiet and stay the heck out of the way. You've probably wondered about them, even if just in passing.
1. Chapter 1

Thirteen years ago, I had 'the interview'. The interviewer was (and is) a stand-up guy, shrewd, horticulturally aware (the roses he has bred over the years are stunning!), and with wit and approachability, you just can't help but like him. Like him and respect him – he's 'proper' and firm and honest.

The estate is huge, with most of it being unused woodland but it was only a small area, relatively speaking, that I had to tend to. At the time, I didn't think much of the job, the contract was a good one, the pay was three times more than I was on at the time, and the 'leave for the day' clause was fine by me – although it did frustrate me initially, it keeps me on my toes.

I'm a gardener, to put it bluntly. I trained at Kew Gardens and spent a few years there before relocating to Wakehurst. After a decade there, I got 'the call': a private estate was looking for a specialist, ideally long-term. Standard three month probation period, I figured 'what the heck' and went for it.

At the end of the first month, I almost quit. Not because of the job, the work was great. The boss was great. The Big Boss was a bit of an enigma (I couldn't figure him out). It was those darn paparazzi that broke in three times, and that nutty houseparty that went out of control and destroyed the fourth greenhouse. Do you know what it's like to have your work trampled and torched?

It's heartbreaking.

The boss asked me to give it another month, and I relented. Picked up the pieces, got back into things and even got the go-ahead to look for a couple of additional hands to help on some projects.

Finding out the secret changed things; helped put things in perspective. I don't officially know, but I know that they know that I know…and that's enough to know…y'know?

Finding out the secret made me aware of how important my work was in keeping things 'normal', and in protecting him. I know he looks out for us, even though we're not part of the team. We're 'extended family' – those cousins you've heard about but never seen.

The rest of us? We've never told or asked if anyone 'knows'. We just know we do. We're 'the collective', and we'll do whatever we can to help.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I'm a born and raised Gothamite, and, for years, all I wanted to do was run off to Hollywood or New York and act. I did the 'traditional' thing and had a few waitressing gigs and helped out at a few catering events, including a few at the Davenport estate. That place is _huge!_ I think it's about twice the size of Wayne Manor, and about half as creepy looking (Wayne Manor at Halloween is awesome, though, and I know the kids and adults love it as they make their way up the long driveway through the weird Willy Wonka land of pumpkins and candy and bats and witches and edible spiderwebs and…

Sorry.

Um…yeah, so there I was at a Davenport function when I saw Mr P fighting the urge to help us out – no offence to Jeeves but he was kind of lost in the head ever since Poison Ivy crashed a party at the Horticultural Society and used her pheromone-thingy on all the men and kidnapped all the rich guys after kissing them and making mushrooms grow out of their skin omigod that was so disgusting but it all worked out cos Batman rescued them and put Ivy in Arkham…

Sorry

Um…yeah, so, anyway, I get a call from the agency saying that Mr P wanted to talk to me in person and asking if I would be willing to meet him. I was a bit weirded out at first but when Tina said that Mr P had said that I should say where I wanted to meet because it was important that I be comfortable I figured 'what the hey', y'know? It's Mr P and he's cool, like a great-uncle or something, so I said we could meet in this café on the corner of Finger and 39th, and I was late and so embarrassed but he was, well, y'know, Mr P – understanding.

He's always understanding. Stern, sure, and I don't always get his jokes, but he's understanding. I don't know why he was never snapped up by some lucky lady…well, I know now but…anyway, we talked and he said that he understood that I wanted to be an actress but wondered if I would consider being his 'right-hand-lady' in looking after the affairs of the Manor. I was going to say 'no', even though the money was amazing, cos it meant having to move to the Manor and live in the servants' wing and, y'know, as cool as Mr P is I had heard some things about the Boss Man and…

Anyway, Mr P assured me that the Boss Man was nothing like the stories I had heard, 'he's far more eccentric and in a way you would never believe', he said, and boy was he right.

Am I blushing?

Oh dear.

Don't take it the wrong way, it's nothing like that. The blush? It's pride. The Boss Man is awesome. The work he does for orphans, the scholarships and bursaries and so on and so on.

Anyway, I've been there for nine years now, and I also now know that movies and television isn't my thing.

Theatre.

Mr P taught me so much, and through him I found the theatre. You probably won't believe me but I've been in 4 mainstream productions and 7 pantos.

The Boss Man? Like I said, he's awesome.

He's got abs of steel, too.


	3. Chapter 3

What do I do at Wayne Manor? Well, I'm the groundsman and look after basic security and things like that. No, Jacob's the gardener, my work is different.

Why didn't I call myself 'head of security'? Because that's misleading.

Yes, I am in charge of security, but only at a basic level. It's a large estate and there are a number of things to attend to.

Internal security? Why is it so hard for you to understand and accept that there are different layers and I only have knowledge of the work I'm directly involved in?

That's okay. Apology accepted.

How was I recruited? I went to the same school as Mr Wayne. We weren't friends but we did associate now and then. He remembered me and got Mr Fox to get in touch with me a few years ago.

There's a chuckle in your voice…you're amused at my sharing an educational background with Mr Wayne?

Something isn't right here.

This interview's over….

* * *

What do I do at Wayne Manor? Well, I'm the groundsman and look after basic security and things like that. It's a standard set-up – vehicle searches, background checks, cameras, that kind of thing.

Excuse me? Why am I still employed? I'll have you know that Mr Wayne has made it very clear that he does _not_ hold me responsible for invasion by those assassins.

Do I have access to his 'inner sanctum'? What the heck are you on about?

* * *

What do I do at Wayne Manor? Well, I'm the groundsman and look after basic security and things like that. It's not out of the ordinary for wealthy and influential people like Mr Wayne to have ex-military personnel as part of their security detail.

I'm sorry, but after Qurac all my military activity is classified. No exceptions.

Has Mr Wayne ever asked me for self-defence lessons? Ha! No, not really. We've had a couple of sparring sessions. He's pretty good. Minds his surroundings. Is more defensive than offensive. It's understandable, really. He's a pretty big guy and in good shape, but after he accidentally broke someone's jaw in a boxing match back in high school…

I'm sorry, I don't see how knowing the name of the guy who had is jaw broken is of any concern here. Surely that's something you'd be able to uncover in your own research.

Does Mr Wayne have a lot of scars? The guy's had skiing and polo accidents. He's had a couple of nasty car accidents, too, so, yes, he has scars. That's not unusual for someone who likes to be active.

Safer? Are you trying to do an insurance profile or something?

* * *

What do I do at Wayne Manor? Well, I'm the groundsman and look after basic security and things like that.

Haven't…haven't we spoken about this already…?


	4. Chapter 4

What's the Secret? It's a doozy. The Big Boss truly cares about Gotham and her inhabitants. Heck, he cares about everyone. Yeah, yeah, it doesn't sound like much of a secret, but when you know how much he has sacrificed over the years in order to protect this city and her people, this country and this world, then you'd cherish the Secret, too.

Look, when I first found out, it scared the pants off me. It's a huge thing. Seriously, when you find out that your boss is willing to spend millions to provide education to the dispossessed, worrying about one's begonias is trivial. It's a lot of pressure, you see? Setting up a secret garden that will soothe someone like the Big Boss just…well, it was harder than landscaping and arranging for the Queen.

Seriously.

Thirteen years down the line, though, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Sure, we have had undead assassins crashing through, or some of the Penguin's goons making a scene, but, for the most part, the Wayne grounds are a paradise.

Dark and foreboding? You've never been in the gardens, have you? You know there are two mazes there, one that's been around for several generations of the Wayne family and another that I initiated?

Why are you showing me a satellite image of the Wayne grounds? I know you can't see the mazes in those images. They're altered.

Sorry, I can't help but laugh at your anger. The Big Boss is a private man and you're trying to use images obtained from one his own satellites in order to have a peek into his backyard. You don't find that funny?


	5. Chapter 5

'I long for truth, and yet  
I cannot stay from that  
My better self disowns,  
For a man's attention  
Brings such satisfaction  
To the craving in my bones.'

Sorry, my mind tends to wander…and wonder. I guess Mr P's poetry recitations are rubbing off on me.

You don't recognize it? Oh…that's…I mean no offence but I…figured someone such as yourself would know it.

Where did my mind wander to? My fiancé. I know there's nothing in your file about him. He died a long time ago.

Why would I hold Bruce Wayne responsible for my fiancé's death?

'Heaven gave Rob Roy a dauntless heart

And wondrous length and strength of arm:

Nor craved he more to quell his foes,

Or keep his friends from harm.'

I'm sorry, something just doesn't seem right.

My head hurts.


	6. Chapter 6

I first met Mr Wayne when I was 10. He was around 15 at the time. My…background…meant that I didn't quite fit in at the school, and there were those who wanted to…persuade me to leave. Mr Wayne put a stop to that.

Yes, there were a couple of fights before the message was firmly conveyed, but…excuse me? No, what happened is not an example of Mr Wayne having violent tendencies.

He's my boss, I'm not going to call him 'Bruce'.

No, I'm perfectly comfortable calling him Mr Wayne and certainly don't need to relax.

I'm sorry, but there's really no need to go over something that happened nearly two decades ago. It has no bearing on the man Mr Wayne is now.

Ha! Sure, you can 'beg to differ', but let me tell you something about the kind of man Mr Wayne is: if he sees or hears of something bad happening and he's in a position to stop it there and then, he will; if he sees or hears of something bad happening and isn't in a position to intervene directly then he will do what he can to ensure the right people are able to; and in situations where he literally is powerless, whether by law or circumstance, to do anything, it weighs heavy on him.

A saint? No, I'm in no position to ascribe something like that to him.

My background? My language skills were something I felt would be an asset to the military, so I enlisted. I was a decent boxer and had a lot of…directed training a year or so into my service.

In…infi…infiltration.

Counter.

Counter-intelligence.

Is there something wrong with the lights? My…head hurts…


	7. Chapter 7

_This wasn't supposed to happen. They were never supposed to ever be directly involved._

_The unspoken rule._

_Marty._

_Amy._

_Ishaq._

_Forgive me._

* * *

Weak links are meant to be prodded. Probed. Explored. They're Trojan horses set for exploitation. Everyone and everything has them. The chink in the armour.

The vulnerability of The Bat.

The Family is trained, aware, problematic. Previously, I made the error of trying to get to The Bat through them. Although on the face of things it seemed like a viable approach, it overlooked the fact that The Bat weeds out the weaknesses of his protégés. The laughter of the Robin has become suppressed; the killer instinct redirected; the desire to prove themselves refocused.

I did consider the Butler. The father figure. Immensely vulnerable, but not pliant. It could be argued that he's even more stubborn and secretive than The Bat. He has been targeted before, by several others.

Hell rained down on them.

When it dawned on me I felt I could slap myself for being such a fool. There were untrained and unaware members of an '_extended_' family; ignored by The Bat _and _the Protégés.

I had the weak point, I knew where the 'lock' was…

…I merely needed…a 'key'.

The Key.

_I_ know that The Bat is currently Bruce Wayne. I _know_ that Bruce Wayne does not deserve to be the host of The Bat. I will prove this and The Bat will reject him and embrace me!


	8. Chapter 8

To the average human ear there is no sound as the shadowed figure lands on the gravel – gravel that had been specifically laid in order to alert the guards, placed at intervals around the perimeter, if anyone had successfully vaulted the fence. The fence itself had areas coated with anti-climbing paint, other areas with pressure sensors, and yet others with tasers. Last week, a fox had been barbequed when it tried to dig under.

Twenty guards manning the perimeter and not one was aware of the intruder. The five dogs, however, were another matter. Or they would be if the figure had not activated a repellent prior to vaulting the fence.

Including the doors and windows, there are 17 primary access points into the building. The air vents and sewers provide another 5 access points. Cameras and motion sensors have been set up at 16 of the primary points and all of the secondary access points. If there was sufficient light and this was a 'standard' or 'ordinary' person attempting a breaking and entering, one would see a smile. This figure, and even in this poor lighting, doesn't smile. This figure, even to the casual observer, is determined.

And angry.

Thirty-seven seconds later and there is no sign of that figure ever having been present. The entry point it utilized looks untouched. The guards continue their rounds of the perimeter, and the dogs relax a little.

The outside is oblivious to what is about to occur…


	9. Chapter 9

A few years ago, Poison Ivy introduced some kind of mutated plants into an area of Robinson Park. I don't know why she did it but, to my mind, her love and understanding of plants has been corrupted. I'm no shrink – that's your area of expertise, isn't it? – but she seems to have swung the pendulum too far the other way. I love the plant kingdom, I wouldn't be doing the work that I do if I didn't, but nature has Her own way of balancing things out.

No, I don't think Ivy is nature's agent in that regard. I can appreciate her as a kind of 'warner' but that's it. If she was nature's agent then she'd be a lot more successful than she has been.

Anyway, back to the plants. Carnivorous mutations. Terrifying, but beautiful. I saw the coverage of the clean-up and someone held up a few of the plants Batman had supposedly used to counter the…'aggressor pollen', I think they called it…Ivy had infected a number of women with it.

What's that? 'What was so special about those plants?'

Did you feel that? It's like the room shifted.

Why am I lying down?

This leather feels strange. Like cloth…


	10. Chapter 10

Am I in love with the Boss Man? No, not at all. I have immense respect and affection for him, but –

No, it's not the same thing as the kind of love you're alluding to. What kind of psychiatrist are you?

Why are we even having this conversation? What kind of assessments are you talking about? I've worked with Mr P for nine years and have never had this kind of interviewing or assessment process.

Wait, I'm supposed to be on my vacation, aren't I?

The Boss Man's abs? uff, you really shouldn't dwell on that.

C'mon, I live in the Manor. I've seen him swim and play tennis shirtless…

You're making me uncomfortable.

No, see, that's where I disagree with you. Thinking…_admiring_ the Boss Man's physique, or DG's physique, doesn't mean I'm in love with them. Why are you trying to force an admission when there is none?

My fiancé? He died 10 years ago. He was a fireman and lost his life with three others…children…when the Joshua Wayne Orphanage was targeted by a gang of arsonists.

I don't understand. Why would I blame Batman or Bruce Wayne for his death? Death is a part of life, and even if Batman – you know what? Even if _Superman_ had been there, there's no guarantee my fiancé would have survived.

It doesn't matter that the orphanage was set up by the Wayne family! He's not responsible for everything that happens!

No! _No_! _I should not be blaming Batman! He was saving children on the other side of the city!_

_What is wrong with you?!_


	11. Chapter 11

Have I ever had to be Mr Wayne's bodyguard? There have been occasions, yes. I'm sorry, did you just say 'that's redundant'? 'A pathetic waste of time'?

Okay…I…could have sworn you said that…

Is Mr Wayne hard to keep track of? That's not part of my job description. My primary role is to ensure the Wayne estate is secure. Overall, I have a very good success rate and, yes, all a bad guy needs is that one opening but, over the years, I've put together some good fail-safes.

Can Batman get in? Probably, he is The Batman, after all. Isn't he known for getting into places he shouldn't be able to? I heard he once broke into Superman's fortress and left him a note telling him to stop being so lazy with his security.

Have I ever met The Batman? No.

Seriously, I've never met him. I did meet one of the girls once. Silent but friendly. Oh, and the redhead. I did meet her, but that was years ago.

Where? Gotham Zoo. There was an event being held for children – Mr Wayne is very determined in helping children. You know about his scholarships and bursary schemes, right?

What happened? Oh, well, I think it was the Mad Hatter. No, Batman wasn't there, but Batgirl, the red-haired one, and Robin, they were there.

Mr Wayne? He was by my side the whole time.

Yes, I'm sure. He and I were helping get the children to safety.

Did he hit anyone? Not really. He's a strong guy and knows some Judo and Aikido, and a little Taekwondo, but his priority was in shielding the children and getting them to safety.

Yes, I'm sure. I've never met The Batman, and I've certainly never sparred with him! Trust me, I don't think I'd ever forget sparring with Batman.

Have I ever seen him in action. Yes.

Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. The way he moves was amazing, but the quiet girl has much more fluidity in motion, and…what's his name? Nightwing? Definitely faster and much more graceful.

Um…you're…angry that I'm saying Batman is lesser than…excuse me? 'Leeches'?

What's with this obsession with Batman? It doesn't seem very healthy.

Did you really just call yourself 'a model of mental health'?


	12. Chapter 12

This doesn't make sense. The Family has training to avoid or counter telepathic invasion and coercion, but none of these people are supposed to be able to counter this. Counter you.

You said you had even mislead the Manhunter!

Human nature? Human desire? Absolute commitment?

Nothing is absolute, you know that.

We had an agreement – you help me gain The Bat, we then gain the Justice League, and the League helps you gain Death.

My knowledge, your power. The two keys to access the Bat-bunker in a way the Bat-clan didn't think about. An exposure of their secrets, lies and vulnerabilities.

A gardener, a maid, and an ex-soldier! How are they resisting?!


	13. Chapter 13

_In the dream realm there was peace. _

_Eternal. _

_Imagination flowed freely._

_Uninhibited._

_Then the memories began to return. The defeats, the plans, the foiled attempts at becoming more. I learned, changed, grew, became better…and was defeated. I tried again, and again, and again._

_In the dream realm, there was peace…until he reminded me that I wasn't supposed to be there._

_The Doctor._

* * *

Bruce Wayne is Batman. He knows I know but time and again he has 'proven' me 'wrong'. His contingency plans, his hidden alternate personalities, his self-suppression, his friends and allies and protégés…layer upon layer of shielding and protection.

I've watched him, watched others watch him, tolerated others watching me – the diseased clown will be the first to go, with his ridiculous belief that The Bat needs him.

Disgusting.


	14. Chapter 14

The storage room the figure is standing in is very nondescript, and apart from the shelving there is nothing stored in there. The figure raises its gloved right hand to the side of its head and its white 'eyes' flicker. Turning slowly on the spot several times, it uses the enhanced lenses to locate any immediate traps, traps which wouldn't be immediately noticeable to the naked eye, let alone its trained eye. As it switches to ultra-violet, it pauses. The lock on the door doesn't belong in a place like this, and the last time the figure had ever seen anything like it was when he was being tutored by Scott Free many years ago.

Threads of circuitry are in the walls of the room, linked up to the lock in the door. The only options available are to either go back out the way it had entered, or…

Drawing its cape up off the ground, the figure crouches in front of the lock and casts its mind back to recall…


	15. Chapter 15

Bruce Wayne is the host of The Bat, and his staff will help me prove it. Marty, the pathetic gardener; Amy, the seducer; and Ishaq, the deceiver.

What need of a gardener when the world is The Bat's?

How weak is the host to succumb to the wiles of that…wench?

How vulnerable to the deceit of friendship by allowing a childhood leech back into his life?

The Bat deserves better.

The Bat needs me.

_For years we've looked the other way. We knew the risk of any one of them finding out was there but…were we wrong in believing that their 'distance' from the Family protected them?_

_Ra's al Ghul, Bane, Ducard…none of them would have ever approached them. It was the unspoken rule: these people are not to be involved._

_Amy's a good woman and a godsend. She has learned a lot from Leslie over the years, and from me. I never thought of training her as my replacement, but…I know she's more than capable. I know she knows. Master Bruce knows she knows._

_…and now someone else knows she knows._

_She's supposed to be on vacation. She's cancelled the last three and I know she was looking forward to this._

_Master Bruce will find her._

_Find them._

_Marty, my learned friend…_

_Ishaq, the warm-hearted man with the 'let's embarrass Alfred jokes'._

_They were meant to be safe._

On the table in front of the weary butler were a series of Polaroids of Amy, Marty, and Ishaq. Blurry pictures taken over various months and weeks as they went about their lives away from the grounds of the Wayne Estate. Each picture created a sense of unease, but it was the last three – one of each of them – which was most disturbing: unconscious, 'plugged in', and with a picture of Bruce Wayne and the Bat-symbol pinned to their chests…and a demonic shadow darkening each of them.


	16. Chapter 16

My greatest achievement? Creating 'The Kryptonian'.

Don't look so surprised. It took years of work and careful manipulation to bring it to reality. It had to be perfect. It _is_ perfect. The colours, the way it embraces the sun. Of course, the boss deserves credit, too. His help and suggestions were invaluable.

No, not Mr Wayne, Mr Pennyworth. The idea was Mr Wayne's, sure, but it was with Mr Pennyworth's help that I was able to make 'The Kryptonian' a reality.

* * *

Sure, the Boss Man often seems to be in a dark mood, but I prefer to describe it as 'pensive'. He has a lot of responsibilities and has to divide his time over a lot of different areas.

'Billionaire playboy layabout'? That's just a façade. He pushes and promotes that image in order to be able to be more productive in other areas.

Have I ever seen him hurt? In what way?

Well, he was…he grieved for a long time when Jason died. That boy was a right flirt. Not as carefree as DG, a bit naughtier, but he was a good kid.

Physical?

…

…Mr P usually does a round of the South Wing at 11pm, and turns the main lights off there at 11:15. A few years ago it was 03:30 and the lights were still on. He had been under a lot of stress lately, and the Boss Man had been working all the hours he could.

…the Boss Man wasn't well…I…I'm sure he had blood in his…

…I was worried about Mr P, so I decided to check up on him. I was at the top of the stairs when I saw him lying on the floor, bleeding. Bay-

…

…Bay-

…the shock of hearing that the Boss Man had been in a terrible car accident…Mr P…Mr P collapsed and hit his head. The Boss Man…his injuries were severe…

* * *

It took me a while, but I've realized something. This isn't real. Sure, it's happening. You've been asking questions, trying to get the kind of answers you want, but, physically…I'm not in this room and I'm not lying on a leather couch.

I also know that I can't wake up. Not yet. Maybe I'm not strong enough to, but you ought to know, Doctor, that my part in your scheme is up.


	17. Chapter 17

The presence of that lock clued the figure in on this kidnapping of Bruce Wayne's staff involved more than the man it initially deduced the culprit to be. The three photographs, the images pinned to the chests of the abductees, and the view from the window just barely glimpsed in the corner of the third photograph provided it with the information as to where the abductees had been taken, and by whom.

But the lock.

Very, _very_ few beings on Earth would have any idea about that kind of lock – it was designed by someone _not_ of Earth. The list was short but each being on it was dangerous – each one could be classed at Alpha Level.

The corridor was narrow and empty but the figure used the cowl lenses again, tensing as the series of traps it had to overcome became more apparent. To get to the stairwell it would have to evade, or deactivate or redirect eight traps, including microwave emitters, hypersonics and some kind of acid paste. All in a space of 20 feet.

There was also the 'pendulum'-sword that was currently being held back from swinging into its chest. The secondary door behind it hissed shut, forcing the figure to step forward slightly in order to avoid it. Step forward and brush its boot against the wire angled across the corridor.

*click*

The sword wavered slightly, waiting for the figure to make its next move.

A few years ago, this would have been quite problematic. Now, however, the figure calmly squeezed its gloved left hand and then twisted its wrist. The back of its right boot quietly opened, the pressure on the wire was unchanged and the sword had stopped wavering. Trained eyes followed the wire as the figure pulled a knife out of one the pouches on its belt. It raised its un-booted foot and turned slightly on its other foot, pulling its cape up with its left hand. It leaned forward at an angle and rested the un-booted foot against the opposite wall.

Traps this elaborate were not the Doctor's forte.

The heads-up-display showed the figure that its comm-links to the Watchtower, the Clock and the Cave were blocked. As it slowly lowered the sword to the ground and put the boot back on, the figure shook its head at its oversight. The League and Oracle were used to it 'going offline' without warning, but perhaps Alfred would give them an update…

For now, it turned its attention to the acid paste guns…


	18. Chapter 18

_It took months for my essence to be drawn out of the dream realm. The Doctor was not forthcoming on where he had obtained the equipment from, but it was clear that he had connections._

_And he had my body._

_For years it had been altering, evolving, becoming more and better. Previously, my brain and enhanced senses surpassed it and, as good as it was, it wasn't enough. It wasn't durable enough._

_It was different now, though._

_But it wasn't letting me in…_

_Dream flu._

_As the Doctor's machines gathered my essence, previously hidden memories returned. At first it was merely memories I can consciously and willingly cast aside – childhood, adolescence, college. I savored the memories of my evolution, the memories of my days and nights in the underground laboratory where I developed and perfected various serums. The sudden rush of the stolen memories, though, unnerved me._

_I knew their secrets._

_Clark Kent._

_Bruce Wayne._

_Barry Allen._

_Hal Jordan._

_Carter Hall._

_Shiera Hall._

_Ray Palmer._

_Diana Prince._

_John Jones._

_I disbanded the Justice League. I had the Green Lantern destroy their Secret Sanctuary, only to restore it and make accessible only to me._

_Or...did I?_

_It's ironic…just as I spent years studying and learning about the League, determining its weaknesses and exploiting them, the Doctor has done the same in his obsession with Batman._

_Bruce Wayne._

_Yet, my memories and experiences are different. I sense no 'Snapper Carr'…I feel as, with those memories, I'm looking back at another time, another place. As the effects of the Green Lantern's mindwipe is removed from my essence, I understand that there is more that changed._

_Chronal changes._

_I recall robots rather than henchmen, but cling on to the memory of the key that accesses a black hole._

_Negative space and the understanding of 'The Game' – the Good Guys always win…so let them._

_That's the key…_

_Fractal mazes and prisons without doors._

_Dreams of Elseworlds._

_Of aged Bruce and a cancerous Jester._

_Of fears and truths, and hopes and nightmares._

_The Doctor believes Bruce Wayne to be Batman and seeks the truth in order to usurp him._

_I _know _Bruce Wayne is the Batman. I did, and then I didn't, but now I know again. _

_As Snapper was the key in time now lost, the Batman is the key in the time that is now._

_It took months for my essence to be drawn out from the dream realm. Months in which the Doctor's old haunt could be adapted and prepared. Misdirection and frustration, traps and lures._

_By now, he's in the building._

_Soon, he'll realize I'm back._

_Oh Doctor, oh Doctor. You foolish, foolish man. The Bat is no mere play thing, he always has a plan._


	19. Chapter 19

It took the figure an hour to cross 20 feet of corridor. As it stood by the stairwell it made a quick check of its equipment. Behind it lay the silent remains of more than half a dozen traps.

_Overkill, wasn't it?_

The voice whispered in the figure's head.

_I needed time, my dear Dark Knight Caped Crusader Detective. I still do. Careful as you go – they're _very_ strong._

The soft clicks of the doors unlocking seemed to echo up and down the corridor, but the figure was unfazed. When he had deduced the location of Marty and the others he knew he had to be prepared for a situation like this, and as he had scanned for traps and heat signatures, he had already 'seen' the six silent figures that had been waiting patiently…one in each room.

There was a whirl of motion from the figure as soon as the doors were jerked open, and as the cape settled back around the shoulders of The Batman, six immense feet were being firmly placed in the corridor, cracking the tiles underfoot.

And stopped.

For a few moments, The Batman silently watched the towering forms. His stance lowered slightly before he committed to another whirl of movement. Poking out of each of the massive figures were two empty syringes.

_One hour to get through a trap-laden corridor, and less than a minute to stop six monster-men! You're more impressive than I remember you being. Have you been practicing?_

_Did you even consider your formula not working?_

The Batman turned back to the stairwell and hopped on to the eighth step.

_Good memory, Detective. Some of the Doctor's designs remain the same. Three floors to go._

_Enjoy…_

* * *

The machine was rather crudely put together but was fully functional. It was a prototype and a much more advanced one could be found in the junkyard on the dark side of the moon; this one, however, had been stored away almost a decade ago. Taking it apart, transporting it, and then putting it back together had involved months of work, but the 'recruitment drive' at Gotham U had reaped dividends.

A bearded man slowly rose from the control console, pulling off adhesive connectors as he readjusted to his surroundings. Hums, beeps and machine-aided breathing were the only noises in the large room. Several large screens displayed various 'footage' from the first-person perspective. Every so often the frequency of the beeps would increase and the footage displayed on one of the screens would change.

On one of the screens, it was a warzone. The bearded man frowned in annoyance as a dark-haired soldier 'spoke' to the observer. Lip-reading, he said aloud:

'Ishaq, we're pinned! Maybe we should double back and find another route?'

The face of the soldier flickered momentarily.

The bearded man turned his attention to another screen and tensed at images of Superman and Batman flashed across the screen. The images jerked and changed to one of darkness, and the bearded man frowned again, annoyed at being unable to hear what was happening. There were sparks as a match was lit and pale grinning face appeared. The image jerked again as a gloved fist punched the pale face. It settled over a view of a lavish and well-tended garden. A tired-looking Bruce Wayne smiled and even a non-lip-reader could see him mouth, 'Thank you, Marty. Thank you.'

On another screen, a bloodied and unconscious Alfred Pennyworth lay cradled in a woman's arms. The 'first person perspective' then focused on a nearby shotgun that was lying on the floor and then a broken grandfather clock, beside which was a darkened opening.

The bearded man smiled and glanced at the recording equipment. 'There we go.'


	20. Chapter 20

_Marty never made it to his presentation in arboriculture today. After NML was declared, Marty stayed. He didn't have to, he had family back in England and would have been readily welcomed by any number of horticultural societies, but he wanted to. For the past few years, he has run a series of presentations and workshops on the Hill and in other parts of 'low' Gotham. The fact that he's an OG has him held in very high regard and actually protects him._

_Several people saw Marty being abducted and word of it spread like wildfire._

_People are looking for him._

* * *

The garden is his refuge now. It was supposed to be Bruce's but after the things he has been experiencing…

"I'm so stupid! 'We're 'the collective''! Why the hell did I say that?! So stupid…"

He knows that the things he is seeing and hearing are not real – they cannot be – but fear runs through him nonetheless. He had never told anyone The Secret, it was something he had vowed to keep to himself.

His heart races as the scene shifts and he finds himself in Greenhouse 4. On one of his worktables is a potted plant, a plant which recently countered one of Ivy's schemes (this time, oddly, targeting women) – rare, the only ones like it had been bred by him – and beside it is some kind of paperweight, and a note.

"The Batarang…" he whispers, smiling at the memory. The note has two words: 'Thanks Marty'.

* * *

Amy is curled up on her bed, crying. She can hear her sister knocking on the door and asking if she can come in. Squeezing her eyes shut, the images still flash before her: the news coverage, the flash of the blue lights, the black smoke, the saddened faces.

She squeezes her eyes tighter and can hear the wail of the sirens and taste the fear in her mouth, and feel the trembling of her body. The name, her fiancé's name, keeps getting blotted out…keeps trying to sneak up on her.

_"…lovely is  
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.  
O Never give the heart outright,  
For they, for all smooth lips can say,  
Have given their hearts up to the play.  
And who could play it well enough…"_

An image of Bane punching Batman flashes into her head and she shudders.

An image of Jason's grave…and she moans.

She hears the laughter of the children at Halloween and relaxes. The scent of gingerbread and the image of Alfred with batter on his nose…and smiles.

"I think your cooking's giving Alfred's a run for his money, Amy."

* * *

"The thing is, Ishaq, I like having my freedom but, now and then, I need to have someone watch my back. I need to have someone I can trust to safeguard the Manor. I know, in comparison to what you were doing in Qurac and all those other places, this job doesn't seem important, but I'll be putting my life in your hands. Mine, Alfred's, Dick's…"

"So no pressure, then?"

"None at all."

In the past twelve months there have been 92 attempts on Bruce Wayne's life. Six made it to the news. Bruce Wayne has a habit of 'stepping on toes', and a lot of those toes like to kick, shoot or explode back. Opportunists, millionaire-thugs, hostile take-over bids, The Penguin, break-away factions of the League of Shadows. Even Lex Luthor.

"I let you down, Bruce."

"Don't be ridiculous, your family needed you. Everything worked itself out in the end. I would never have forgiven myself if you weren't there when they needed you, let alone if you weren't there for your parents' janaza."

"I miss them."

"I know…"

"I have to wake up. I have to put a stop to this."

"You will, but not yet. Trust me as I trust you."


	21. Chapter 21

The Batman, aching and bruised and burnt, approached the door to the 'great hall'. In his head he went over a checklist of what remained of his arsenal: three batarangs, a fully loaded grapple gun, four gauntlet spikes, two sonic grenades, seven flash bombs, an expandable baton, 'slick shoes', cowl-gas, glove-gas, two laser-pens, three mini-tasers and his suit taser.

He was armed to the teeth.

_Ah, Bruce. Here at last._

_Welcome._

There was no warning as the floor suddenly propelled him back the way he had come. Twisting in midair, he regained control, landed and somersaulted to the right. His body shuddered and he fell to his knees.

_Wide-beam neural shock. Sometimes it's best to use what has worked before._

The Batman slowly rose.

_Or not. Interesting. Something in your cowl, no doubt._

The Batman shuddered and fell to his knees again before suddenly arching tightly and grunting with pain.

And then there was silence.

* * *

Inside the 'great hall' the bearded man was naked, dripping with sweat, and doing planche push-ups. The screens were blank but the machines continued to beep and hiss.

_He's here. Just as you said he would be._

The bearded man smiled and stood up. He walked over to one of the consoles and put on a headset. In his mind flashed an image of a shadowy and caped figure landing on the gravel outside. Grinning, he took off the headset and pushed a button; outside, the guards quickly made their way to the area where, hours earlier, Batman had landed.

The bearded man stretched and admired himself before making his way to the to the control pod of the large machine. He settled in and sat back. The machine hummed louder and 'plugged' him in.

* * *

_Bruce! So nice of you to join us._

Hnh

_Come now, that's not fair. You've taken away any edge I may have had._

Let them go. I'm here.

_You're here, they're here…but I don't want any of you. You know that, don't you? Yes, yes, you do. You've always been one of the clever ones. Well, almost always. Our first encounter went very much my way, didn't it?_

_I didn't want to come back, Bruce (by the way, the Doctor didn't tell me…I already knew. Funny thing is, he thinks I don't know). No, I didn't want to come back. The dream realm is a wondrous place, absolutely…but I was cheated. You and the Arrow and the Raven…you _cheated_ me!_

_Are you done with your analysis, Detective? Yes, you're unconscious, yes, when you open your eyes you'll find yourself in a dream reality, and, no, waking from the dream doesn't mean you win, or even I win. I'm not after your psycho-electric surge. Not this time._

Then?

_For now…satisfy my curiosity._

How?

_These…minions the Doctor abducted and brought here. How are they so loyal to you when you haven't even brought them into your circle? Dick and Alfred I can readily understand; even the Gordons, but these three? Are there more? Why did you allow them to know? Your comrades are quite adept at mindwiping, why not get one of them to do that?_

_Curious. You don't know and you don't care to know. Is that old age creeping in?_

_You're welcome, by the way._

* * *

Sprawled on the floor, The Batman snaps awake, gasping for breath.


	22. Chapter 22

"Amy? Amy, it's Ishaq. Can you hear me?"

"Ishaq?"

"Yes. Don't take this the wrong way, but can we meet in the kitchen? It's where we usually talk, so…"

"The kitchen?"

"In the Manor, yes."

"Are you going to make me a sandwich?"

"Sure."

* * *

In a dark and dank cave stands a caped figure. Directly ahead of it are a series of steps leading up to a stone 'throne' shaped like a giant bat. The figure holds its arms out wide as if in welcome and begins to walk to the steps.

* * *

"Marty, are you in Greenhouse 4?"

Startled, Marty looks up from the worktop and at the intercom.

"Marty? Are you there?"

He hurries over and pushes the button.

"Ishaq? Is that you?"

"Yes. You okay? Can you come to the kitchen in the main building?"

"The - ? On my way."

Grabbing the Batarang and note, Marty rushes out of the greenhouse.

* * *

"Bruce Wayne is the Batman." The figure steps on to the bottom step.

"The Batman is Bruce Wayne." The next step.

"Bruce Wayne _was_ the Batman. The Batman _was_ Bruce Wayne."

The figure pauses and looks up at the ceiling of the cave and spreads its arms wider.

* * *

The kitchen in Wayne Manor is, like almost every home, the heart of it. Here, over the years, there has been laughter and pain, delicious food and burnt steak, the smell of baking and the smell of things that do not belong. Here, traditionally, has been safety and comfort. Amy loves this kitchen and the people who frequent it. Right now, the scent of roasting lamb is in the air.

And…dirt, and flowers…and…

"Marty!" she exclaims, as she dashes over to him and hugs him.

"Amy. Thank God." He holds her a moment longer, comforted by the familiar sounds and smells of the kitchen, before pulling away and looking at her. "Where's Ishaq?"

"Right here." Standing in the doorway wearing camo-gear, Ishaq smiles at them. "Interesting turn of events, don't you think? I'm glad you're both safe. I'm sorry I –"

"Sandwich." says Amy, pointing at the bread.

* * *

_I can't move. He forced me awake but…the neural shocks…_

Sprawled on the floor, mere feet away from the door to the hall, lies The Batman.

* * *

Long, grey fingers reach out of the darkness surrounding the 'throne'. As they brush the 'arm' of stone a hand begins to form. On the steps, the caped figure pauses, confused.

_In magic, names are power. You, dear Doctor, know this to be equally true in the world of psychology. Names and words and sentences and language and imagination._

_Life._

_Death._

_Birth and rebirth. Chaos and peace. Inciteful and insightful._

A tall man, cadaverous-looking and with bright black eyes, looked down on the caped figure and, smiling, slowly lowered himself and sat down in the throne as a roar of rage rebounded and echoed around the dark cave. The tall man leaned forward, rested his elbows on his thighs and steepled his fingers.

_We need to talk, dear Doctor._

* * *

"So we're agreed," said Ishaq. "He's going to do his utmost to find us and rescue us, but if he fails then we will not hold him responsible."

Amy and Marty nodded.

Amy took a breath and picked up a sandwich, "We're not detectives, Ishaq, but you're the closest to that of the three of us. You've saved Bruce from afar so many times, did you-"

"It's how I got caught. A few months ago I noticed a few students had been hanging out around the Foundation building. That's nothing new of itself, of course, Bruce has numerous internships running at any given time, but it was the vacant look they had – drugged, possessed, unaware, or hypnotized. After a while, a rotation pattern emerged but I got side-tracked in dealing with fallout from the Vesper murder and the people trying to 'avenge' her.

"A couple of weeks ago I spotted someone following you, Amy, as you left your theatre group."

"I remember. We dismissed it as an overzealous fan."

"He was, but someone took advantage of that, and encouraged it further."

"And I had my established routine already in place!" exclaimed Marty. "My lectures and workshops."

"Exactly. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim and even Cassie are not people of routine. We are. One of _my_ 'routines' was following up leads to nip potential threats in the bud. Something Bruce encouraged in order to keep me at arm's length. I traced things back to a shop front in Gainsly and ended up getting knocked out. I don't think that's where we are now, though."

"It's not Ivy, is it?" asked Marty, remembering the plant he kept seeing.

"No, I don't think so. We're in a dream realm but I don't think the person behind all this actually created this."

"A team-up?"

"Perhaps. We're safe here, for now. We all have positive memories associated with the kitchen, and that's why I tried to get us all here. A few of the cases the Justice League have worked on were reported to involve shared mental environments. There was some kind of overlap and I figured that would apply here."

"Oh, god, not Doctor Destiny!" said Amy fearfully.

"No, not him."

* * *

"Dude, the Bat went in more than three hours ago. This isn't right."

"Booby traps, man. You've seen the horror movies. _This_ is the house of the Monster-Men. Booby traps!"

The dark bushes murmured in agreement: "Booby traps."

There was a giggle followed by the sound of someone being smacked upside the head, followed by an 'oww', followed by a hissed 'grow up', and the bushes became quiet again and watched the mansion and the guards and the dogs.

A rush of movement from the other side of the fence, and the patrols converged at around the area Batman had landed hours ago.

"Now!"

Dozens of figures, male and female, rushed out of the bushes and woodland on the eastern side of the mansion.


	23. Chapter 23

_The thing is, Doctor, your choice of words, the glee you have in manipulating people, coupled with your ability _to _manipulate people, has given you have arrogance and an awareness that serves you well out there. Here, though, you're no fun._

_Look at this place you've created. This…domain in your mind. There's nothing here._

_I watched your attempt at finding the answers you wanted. I watched as you created an environment comfortable to you; as you took advantage of the unconscious confusion of your…interviewees, but I have to wonder, Doctor, if you realized how little you really are._

* * *

"I don't know who is helping him, or who he is using. This is not how he has done things before, but he knows about The Secret and that alone makes him dangerous. I'm going to take the lead on this, but only because of my previous experiences. The three of us being here right now shows that he's not in control of this situation. We are."

"What's the plan?"

"Something is stopping us from waking up. Whatever it is hasn't given him a problem as he flitted between the three of us, but maybe, if we can latch on to him, we can hold him here until Batman turns the tables."

Amy shivered and then smiled. "It's got a bit of a _Nightmare on Elm Street_ feel to it, doesn't it?"

"Only _we're_ going to be giving _him_ nightmares." Promised Marty as he held tightly to the Batarang.

* * *

Other than them all being OGs they were quite a disparate group. Actually, that is not quite true – their respect and affection for Marty was a considerable bonding factor for them all. Many of them never said it out loud but each knew that if it hadn't been for Marty spearheading a group of 'green fingers' during the NML, they all likely would have starved.

It was out of respect for him that no shots were fired – well, that and the fact that Batman was inside and would hunt down each and every shooter and feed them their bullets. Twice.

Right now, they were at a loss. They had overpowered the guards, and the dogs were being quite docile for now, but…

"Booby traps."

"Ain't none of us can jump up where The Bat did, bro."

"Told you he was black, man. He just looks white some times 'cos he's got that thing Michael Jackson had. _Batman can __jump_, yo!"

Alvin (popularly known as 'Vinny') shook his head with embarrassment.

"Maybe Batman disarmed them?" said one of the girls.

"Ooooh! Dude, dude, maybe he knew we was there hiding and wants us to break in and help out!" said a lanky fourteen-year-old.

Alvin grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards the broken gates, shouting at everyone to pull back. Checking everyone was out of the compound, he picked up a couple of pieces of the broken gate posts and hurled them at the door.

The explosion shook the ground and knocked most of them down. Fire and smoke obscured their views as they scrambled to their feet and stumbled back to the bush. A couple of them had soiled themselves, including the lanky fourteen-year-old.

* * *

_No! The OGs!_

Sprawled on the floor, mere feet away from the door to the hall, lay The Batman.

* * *

The kitchen shook and rumbled and the three of them held on to the breakfast table.

"I'm going to need a stiff Coke after all this," said Ishaq, grinning. His camo-gear was now a dull black and, in answer to the questioning look Amy and Marty shared, he shrugged and said "Confidence and self-awareness".

* * *

The cave shook and rumbled and the tall grey man flickered.

_That's…odd. Doctor, I'll be right back._

He blinked out of existence and the stone throne stood empty. The caped figure roared with rage and took a step back:

"Bruce Wayne _was _the Batman."

A step forward.

"The Batman _was_ Bruce Wayne."

Another step.

"...Hugo Strange _is_ the Batman."

The figure turned, raised his arms wide, spreading the cape, and then sat down in the throne.

"The Batman _is_ Hugo Strange."

There is silence and then a snort and then laughter.

"Now _that_ is confidence," said Amy, laughing.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note:** Sincerest apologies to those who have been reading and following this story (and my heartfelt thanks and appreciation, too) - as I was reviewing what I had posted to date, I discovered that my 'scene breaks' never made it across to the published work you've been reading! I've gone through and inserted 'line breaks' where the scene changes - as disorienting as I had intended this tale to be, I didn't want it to be as confusing as it ended up being.

I hope the insertion of those line breaks makes this easier to understand, especially as this tale draws to a close (just a couple of chapters left to go).

Please forgive me if I have (inadvertently) been making this a poor reading experience for you.

* * *

The heads-up-display let The Batman know that he had been immobile for twenty-three minutes. His ears had stopped ringing but there was no sound for him to key on to. He had spotted fifteen OGs in the woods before he had vaulted the fence and he tried not to think about how many may have been killed in the explosion. He should have told them to stay back; should have warned them. Should have-

His left foot twitched.

* * *

"Seriously," giggled Amy, "that the most ridiculous thing I've seen in a while."

At one end of the cave, beyond the clearing before the steps, stood Amy, Marty, and Ishaq. On the stone throne sat Hugo Strange.

"The Leeches. Did _he_ bring you here?"

"Who? Batman?"

"**_I_** am Batman!"

The three of them snorted derisively. Ishaq stepped forward, "See that Batarang?" he asked, indicating at Marty with his thumb. "_He's_ Batman."

The ground around them began to shift and change. Greenery began to appear and the dank cave began to brighten. The steps cracked and saplings and bushes began to push their way out.

Strange rose sharply, confused.

* * *

In a room leading off from the great hall machines beeped and hummed. A plastic cocoon was connected to them and in the cocoon lies a tall, grey, cadaverous-looking body. The machine acting as its heart pumped and filtered chemically altered blood through it, another helped its kidneys, and another provided regulated low-level electrical pulses to its brain.

* * *

Twenty-eight minutes.

The fingers of The Batman's right hand twitched, and his head shifted to the left.

* * *

"The Batman is quite the primal force, isn't he, Doctor? Yet he's also aware, intuitive...adaptive. An instiller of fear and a bringer of hope. The Batman is not Hugo Strange. You don't even have a utility belt..."

"He doesn't have pants, either."

"Quite. Also, Hugo, The Batman...wouldn't be sitting there. Or even standing, as you are right now."

A chunk of the cave fell and smashed into the steps. A blue sky was visible and light streamed in.

"And still he has no shame." Amy whispered.

* * *

"How long has he been in there?" asked a gruff voice from the shadows.

The huddled group yelled and cursed.

"A-about four hours."

"Booby traps."

"That's what I said, 'booby traps'." whispered a voice.

"Stay here."

Moments later, Nightwing began to walk up the steps.

"How the –"

"Shh!"

"Didn't even see him move."

"Didn't even hear him leave."

"Man...Nightwing can _jump_, yo!"

* * *

Thirty-two minutes.

The left leg and right arm are working and Batman has pulled himself up into a standing position, supporting himself with a batarang he jammed into the wall.

* * *

"The collapsing floor is definitely a Hugo trap, especially with that gas, but this laser grid? Robin, are you getting this feed?"


	25. Chapter 25

"Ishaq Abdul-Rahman. Sewage that tainted perfection."

"Um…yeah, that kind of thing doesn't work on me. I'm not one who particularly cares what others think of him, especially someone like you."

Hugo put his hands on his hips. "I don't want to be seeing this," whispered Amy. Marty smiled and shrugged.

"But you care about what Bruce Wayne thinks. How he holds you responsible for the murder of Vesper Fairchild and the attack on Alfred Pennyworth. He even holds you responsible for what happened to the boy in Qurac when the Clown got him.

"And you hold yourself responsible, too, don't you?"

Trees and bushes continued to grow and the landscape continued to change in the area between Strange and the three friends.

"Does Amy know? She was quite fond of the boy. His silly antics and double entendres. He used to make her blush…isn't that right, Amy?" He turned his head slightly to look at her and she met his gaze. "What was his name again? James? John? Idiot?"

Amy bristled.

"And then we have the gardener. He's been awfully quiet. He's quite insane, you know? Believes he created Superman. Calls him 'The Kryptonian.'" Amy and Ishaq looked at each other and grinned; Marty merely looked down at the ground.

"You think it amusing? It doesn't worry you that you spend time with a madman?"

"'Oh, you can't help that'," said Amy, "'we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'"

"How do you know that I'm mad?"

Amy laughed. "'You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here'."

"'Come here'? _You_ came here. I gave your own little worlds and you shunned my benevolence and came here."

Amy sighed and shook her head. "I guess I gave you far more credit than you deserved."

The cave walls give way.

* * *

In the room with the cadaverous-figure is a small, glowing machine. The glow keeps flickering. Pieces of the ceiling are strewn around it.

* * *

"There's got to be an easier way than this," muttered Nightwing as he disabled a bio-aura forcefield which was linked to a sonic pulse canon. "Anything concrete on the tech so far?"

"It's mainly been copy-cat gear, and high level stuff at that. Some Apokoliptan and some Thanagarian, too."

"Mainly?"

"The analysis of the contents of those syringes you found match the psychotropic serums once used by The Key.

"Didn't the JLA put him in some kind of dream realm?"

"Yeah, well, he has a bad habit.

"These traps are time consuming. Deadly, sure, but time consuming. If the Key is involved then maybe this was his way of buying time?"

"I've just checked with Oracle. His body's been moved a couple of times but it's supposed to be in The Slab but-"

"I'm in."

* * *

_'Here was a man who now for the first time found himself looking into the eyes of death-who was passing through one of those rare moments of experience when we feel the truth of a commonplace, which is as different from what we call knowing it, as the vision of waters upon the earth is different from the delirious vision of the water which cannot be had to cool the burning tongue. When the commonplace 'We must all die' transforms itself suddenly into the acute consciousness 'I must die-and soon,' then death grapples us, and his fingers are cruel; afterwards, he may come to fold us in his arms as our mother did, and our last moment of dim earthly discerning may be like the first.'_

_Ah, Eliot, how true…_

* * *

Crouching on a massive slab of the old cave roof, Hugo Strange looked down on the three friends. Amy turned away, disgusted, while Marty continued to look at the floor. The slab cracked and gave way and, with a roar, Strange leapt towards them. Ishaq intercepted, punched him to the ground and then tossed him back towards the throne side of the former cave. Strange landed in a heap and was quickly obscured from view by the rapidly growing trees and bushes.

* * *

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" Nightwing stepped through the door and saw Batman at the other end of the corridor. His lenses picked up three traps on the infra-red frequency.

Batman turned to look at him and smiled. "Good to see you." He nodded at the door to the great hall. "They're in there but I'm still in no shape to go in."

"Understood. Do you want me to double back and-"

"No. Six monster-men the way I came, no guarantee the serum was wholly effective."

"Okay." Nightwing set to work disabling the nearest trap.

* * *

_'Being dead will be no different from being unborn - I shall be just as I was in the time of William the Conqueror or the dinosaurs or the trilobites. There is nothing to fear in that.'_

_…but is that true..?_

* * *

Hugo Strange's body twitched and the control pod issued a series of beeps. On a large screen, bare legs can be seen and, beyond them, what appeared to be an area of woodland. On another screen were Amy and Marty; on another was Ishaq; on the fourth…grass and flowers.

* * *

"I _hate_ this kind of 'on the job training'."

"hnh"

"Three more to go."

"Right leg still isn't working."

"We'll save them."

* * *

Strange picked himself up off the floor and paused. He was wearing trousers. Shaking his head quickly, as if admonishing himself, he pulled the cowl attached to the cape up and over his face.

"I'm Batman."

In front of him was a narrow clearing in the greenery. Strange stepped forward and into the maze.

On the other side of the maze, Marty looked up from the ground and turned to Ishaq and Amy. "It's done. He's gone in."

They nodded and the three of them stepped into the maze.

* * *

"We're going to have to double team these locks."

"I'll be there in a few."

"Leg's back. I'll get started."

Screams and roars filled the corridor. Batman and Nightwing looked at each other for a brief moment.


	26. Chapter 26

"_Your_ problem, Hugo, is that you're more of a watcher rather than a doer. Sure, you like 'moving the pieces' and you _think_ you've gotten your hands dirty, but you're far too soft to be The Batman."

"Especially since he's naked."

* * *

"Monster-Men," said Batman. Nightwing nodded and the two of them tackled the various locks on and around the door. The walls were made of large slabs externally, however, years ago, Hugo Strange had enhanced them with 3ft of steel alloy. The various layers of additional circuitry were making 'reading' the locks and motherboards immensely difficult.

_Bruce, old chap, don't mean to be a bother – oh, hello, Richard, good to see you – do you mind hurrying it along?_

"Wow. A disembodied Key."

"He's in trouble."

"Yes, well, priorities and all that, Batman."

"Hnh"

"So many words…"

* * *

The glowing machine flickered like a rapid heartbeat.

_'Some people die, others just run out of fuel.'_

* * *

Batman and Nightwing pushed the heavy door open. In the middle of the great hall was a massive machine with a dozen 'pods'. Three of them were occupied by Amy, Ishaq and Marty. Seated on the control pod was Hugo Strange. The screens showed what each of them was seeing.

"Is that Marty's maze?"

Batman smiled.

_In the end, living is defined by dying. Bookended by oblivion, we are caught in the vice of terror, squeezed to bursting by the approaching end._

"Um…he's quite death-obsessed now, isn't he?"

_A man's life breath cannot come back again- _

_no raiders in force, no trading brings it back, _

_once it slips through a man's clenched teeth. _

"Check the antechamber." Said Batman as he walked towards Hugo. His fingers were still tingling and he was hoping it because he was fighting the urge to punch the plugged-in doctor.

"The Key's body is in there, plugged in to a load of life-preserving tech. There's a flickering machine, too."

_We are the fools of Time and Terror: Days _

_Steal on us, and steal from us; yet we live, _

_Loathing our life, and dreading still to die. _

"Yeah, okay, we get it. You're dying. Remember, 'If I am killed, I can die but once; but to live in constant dread of it, is to die over and over again.'"

_….Quite._

"Batman?"

"We can go in, but –"

_There's no guarantee you'll enter the shared realm. They've been in there for hours and the interlinking realms tend to seal themselves off. They're, literally, in their own world now._

"Looks like it's one where they make their own rules, though," says Nightwing, nodding towards the screens.

_It's Hugo's world. His 'Bat-cave'._

"It _was_ his world," says Batman, gruffly. "He's not in charge any more."

"Is there a way to lead them out?"

_Don't..m…b…bother…_

"Damn," swore Nightwing as he ran back to the antechamber. "Lost in transmission."

In the antechamber the glowing machine's flickering was rapid but the glow was now fading.

* * *

"Didn't you hate Bruce Wayne for letting your fiancé die, Amy?" shouted Strange as he stalked through the maze.

"I told you already: no!"

"Even when you found out? Or were you relieved because with your fiancé dying it meant you were more accessible to Wayne? You must have had a hard time suppressing yourself when he bringing those wenches to his bedroom all the time. Picking up those soiled sheets and smelling the sweat and fluids."

"He's quite gross, isn't he?" whispered Marty.

"Just a little."

"And you, Marty, and your self-degradation by spending your time with the scum of Gotham. The ones left behind."

Marty snorted. "Scum? There wouldn't _be_ a Gotham if it wasn't for them."

"There would be a _better_ Gotham. One suited for The Bat."

"Mad."

"When Bruce Wayne abandoned the city, you were angry, weren't you?"

"Initially…yes." Surprised, Amy and Ishaq looked at Marty. "Initially, it was as if he had given up. After pulling in those all-nighters and rescuing all those quake victims…for him to disappear like that…to hear reports he was in Monaco…I lost faith. But when he came back, when he dragged Gotham kicking and screaming…nurtured the soil and-"

"Oh shut up with your gardener talk you pathetic old man," rasped Strange.

Marty's knuckles whitened as he clutched the batarang.


	27. Chapter 27 & Epilogue

The roars rumbled through the great hall. Turning away from the console, Batman looked at the open door and bowed his head. Quietly, Nightwing gave his shoulder a squeeze. Batman nodded and started walking to the door, reaching into his utility belt; Nightwing glanced up at the screens before heading back into the antechamber.

* * *

_Pl-…this…lp…_

* * *

One of the Monster Men was dragging its leg as it made its way down the stairs. It had snapped its tibia as it tried to move while still paralysed. Behind it came the 'thud' of slow, irregular steps of two other Monster Men, and further behind them came the roars of frustration of the remaining three.

* * *

Nightwing pushed the last couple of buttons and the flickering machine hummed. Gas filled the cocoon and quickly obscured the cadaverous-figure from sight.

_Th…k…you_

* * *

Hugo Strange was breathing heavy, a confused panic washed through him. This was _his_ mind realm, the place where he was going to reveal the truth about Bruce Wayne and claim The Bat for himself…but this maze was not supposed to be here. It couldn't be here.

Yet…it was.

Sweat trickled down his face, moistening his beard, and his neck was uncomfortable as more sweat gathered at his nape.

He looked down in annoyance at the suit-pants – a solid confirmation that he was not in control. His nakedness had been an external sign of power, confidence and virility. The pants…

'Wench,' he muttered through gritted teeth.

* * *

Marty stumbled and Ishaq quickly caught him. He looked pale and worn, and Amy was also looking tired.

"I think…we have to confront him." Ishaq said, as the three of them sat down to rest. "We have to get him to let us out…"

Amy and Marty nodded.

* * *

"How many are there?" asked Nightwing as he watched the screens and monitored the readings on the consoles.

"Six. Traps are set. Signals are still blocked. How are they holding up?"

"Not good. They're in his world and the longer they're there the weaker they're getting."

Hugo's body flinched.

* * *

"Why do you want to be Batman?!" shouted Amy. She began panting and her eyes widened as she realized it was getting harder to breathe.

Gloved hands reached out through the bush behind her pulled her in. Ishaq and Marty scrambled to get to her but weren't able to hold on.

* * *

Batman and Nightwing stared at the screens impotently as they saw, on one, Hugo's gloved hands wrapped around Amy's throat and, on another, Hugo's grinning face. On both screens a foot suddenly shot out – Hugo's neck snapped back and his hands let go of Amy's neck.

Amy rolled on the floor and struggled to stand. Hugo wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand and stepped towards her. Without warning, she rushed at him and punched him across the jaw. As he staggered back she kicked him in the groin. As he cried out in pain and clutched at his groin, she kicked him again. And again. He fell to his knees and she punched him again, the skin of her knuckles tearing against his beard and teeth, before punching him again straight in the face.

Hugo bolted up, smacking her with the back of his hand. Blood streamed down from his nose and he spat at her.

* * *

Batman tensed at what the screens were showing him; Nightwing paced in agitation.

* * *

Marty and Ishaq dove through a third wall of the maze and, again, found the other side to be empty.

They closed their eyes, concentrated, and leapt through the next wall.

* * *

Amy's eye was swelling. Dirt filled her mouth and a fist punched the back of her head. She scratched at the hand that held her face into the ground, suffocating her.

"I would have let you be with The Batman, even if it was just once," he whispered in her ear. "I would have fulfilled your nightly dream. Now I'll merely have to satisfy myself with doing to you what the Clown did to that idiot boy."

The ground heaved and Hugo stumbled back as Amy began to pummel him. A right cross:

"Jason!"

A left hook.

"Todd!"

As each strike connected she screamed the name. She tore off the cowl and spat at him.

Behind her, Ishaq and Marty crawled through the bush, gaping at the sight of Amy beating the living daylights out of Hugo Strange.

Moaning through bloody and swollen lips, Hugo lay on the floor. Wheezing, Amy bent forward, rested her bloody hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath.

"Thanks Uncle Alfred," she whispered.

* * *

Roars once again echoed throughout the hall. Batman hung his head.

Nightwing whispered, "They're not human anymore, Br-…you tried."

Nodding, Batman turned back to Amy's pod as the readings were stabilizing again.

The smell of burning flesh began to filter into the hall. A couple of seconds later there was the bang of a flash bomb followed immediately by more roars as the Monster-Men were blinded by the sudden light.

Hugo Strange coughed blood and his face began to swell.

* * *

"Let us go, Hugo," begged Ishaq as he and Marty drew Amy away from him. "Please?"

Hugo tenderly raised himself on to his elbows and grinned. "Concede that Bruce Wayne is The Batman, show me how you discovered the Secret, swear fealty to me…and I will let you."

Ishaq shook his head. "Bruce isn't The Batman."

Hugo scowled, his face purple with rage and bruises.

Marty nodded. "You're The Batman. It's you."

Eyes wide, Hugo stared.

Amy slipped into unconsciousness.

The sky darkened and the maze wilted and withered away. Cold stone and rock replacing softer earth, and the sound of birds replaced with eerie silence.

"You're The Batman, Hugo."

Amy began to fade from their arms as Hugo turned and opened his arms to the sky and 'world' around him. The throne and the steps leading to it reappeared and, laughing, Hugo began to walk up them.

"Bruce Wayne is the Batman. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne _was_ the Batman. The Batman _was _Bruce Wayne. Hugo Strange is the Batman. The Batman is Hugo Strange. _I_ am the Batman. _I am Hugo Strange!_"

The batarang hit his head as he sat down in the throne. Unconscious, he slumped down and fell to the steps as Marty's hand caught the whirling weapon.

* * *

Anxiously, Batman and Nightwing flitted between the consoles, checking the readings as the screens faded to black. An explosion rocked the walls and gases and lights flowed from the antechamber.

A long high-pitched beep came from Amy's heart monitor. Nightwing began to administer compressions as Batman checked the brain scans. The long beep stopped, replaced with the regular beep and Amy coughed and whispered, her eyes still closed, "DG…stop…trying…to cop a feel…"

Marty and Ishaq groaned as they regained consciousness. The centre of the machine began to glow and a new hum began. Nightwing looked at Batman quizzically.

"The Key built this to collect and use dream energy."

Nightwing nodded and began to unplug the unconscious Amy. "The cocoon isn't plugged in to this system so I doubt the Key's going to be able to use their energy." As he lifted Amy out of the pod he nodded at Strange who was still plugged in to his pod. "He's still in that dream world."

"Hnh."

"Okay." Nightwing whispered to Amy, "C'mon, let's get you some fresh air." Placing a gas mask over her mouth, he walked out of the great hall holding his breath. To his left a series of grapple lines blocked a staircase and held back a couple of Monster Men. A couple of them were burnt quite badly. One of the grapples was starting to come loose.

Batman gently placed Marty on the floor and began to unplug Ishaq. A flash on one of the screens caught his attention and he saw Hugo's gloved hands change and claws tear through them. In his pod, Hugo began screeching…smiling.

* * *

The OGs had gradually started making their way closer and closer to the building, wary after the roars and screams. There was a cheer when Nightwing came out holding Amy and a couple of them rushed up asking him about Marty.

"He's okay. He'll be out soon." Two of them ran past him, ignoring Nightwing's shouts for them to stop. Seconds later, they screamed and their screams were drowned out by the roars.

* * *

The flurry of movement agitated the still drugged Monster Men and they suddenly tore through the grapple lines that had been barring their way. Chunks of the wall crumbled around them as they pushed past each other, eager to reach the two men in their master's hallway. As the last of the lines fell a thick gas hissed in their faces and a mini-taser fell between two of them, shocking them momentarily. The one with the broken leg shoved at his companions, forcing them out of the staircase and on to the floor.

Nightwing vaulted over the sprawled OGs, shouting at them to move. In mid-turn he tossed a couple of shuriken, hitting the foreheads of two of the Monster Men and blinding them with their blood. Batman staggered out with Marty and Ishaq draped over each shoulder.

As Nightwing lassoed the legs of one of the Monster Men he threw one of his escrima sticks at the one with the broken leg, shattering its knee with a sickening crack. Its roar of pain was silenced moments later as it fell face forward and smashed its head on the stairs below it.

The air seemed to tear apart as two sonic grenades suddenly went off. Almost at the door, the Batman turned, startled. Hugo Strange clawed away at Nightwing, screeching. Nightwing fell back and threw Hugo over him with his legs. Snarling, Hugo picked himself up and lunged at Nightwing again. In the middle of his screeching he hissed 'interloper' as Nightwing evaded his attacks.

Slipping around one of the Monster Men, Nightwing checked that Batman was clear of the main entrance only to duck to the side as Batman flew over him and kicked the Monster Man in the head. A series of popping noises went off and parts of the floor began to give way.

Pausing at the door to the great hall, Batman tossed a taser at the main console. The screens went blank and the glow dimmed. Laughing, Hugo jabbed at some buttons on a panel in the wall.

Batman and Nightwing ran from the building.

Screeching and laughing, Hugo began to run after them only to suddenly slip on a puddle of oil in front of the doorway. The floor collapsed and walls of the hallway cracked and crumbled. The building groaned and began to fall in on itself, dust obscuring everything.

Outside, their signals no longer blocked, the Dynamic Duo checked in with Oracle and others.

"Tell the GCPD to dig through the rubble. Strange's hall was reinforced so he and The Key should be safe and…insane. We're heading home."

Assured by the OGs that the unconscious three would be safe, Batman and Nightwing headed back into the trees.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Amy's fingers still felt sore and she couldn't stop herself from blushing when Dick popped by to see how she was. Alfred, Bruce and Leslie had insisted on her taking the time to rest but couldn't help but feel restless. Ishaq had requested two weeks leave and had gone on Ummrah, and Marty had insisted he was fine and was spending time with a few of the OGs at one of the city farms. His palm still had a bat 'etched' into it.

None of them had spoken to each other after the incident. None of them wanted to confirm that the others knew what they knew. It was enough to know, to feel, to understand…to have the silent affirmation.

Both The Key and Hugo Strange were recovered – the Key was taken to an undisclosed location and Hugo Strange was sent to, as expected, Arkham Asylum. He was still screeching and laughing – according to the doctors at the Asylum, based on what they had been told by Batman, Strange had ended up in a 'dream within a dream'.

* * *

_Dear Bruce_

_I'm sorry I wasn't able to look after the family as well as I was supposed to. I'm sorry I let you down again._

Bruce turned the letter over, picked up his phone and keyed in a message:

_Ishaq – see you soon!_

He shook his head.

"Much like I do when you blame yourself for things out of your control, Master Bruce."

Bruce sighed. "Should we bring them in, Alfred?" He looked over at his oldest friend and confidant, standing their quietly. "You're right. Only when they want to be."

* * *

**Author's note: **this tale basically takes place before _The Battle for Metropolis_, but it's fiction so you can slot it in to the pre-Infinite Crisis verse or the preNu52 wherever you feel comfortable. Or not. Up to you :)

When I first started this, it wasn't meant to run like this. After writing the first couple of sentences, however, and in light of the narrative approach I was using, I thought to myself 'who would they be telling this stuff to? Who could be 'interviewing' them?' The rest grew from there.

I look forward to your critiques, and thank you for taking the time to read.

Take care, and keep smiling ;)


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